


Knights and Stars

by SkyFireForever



Category: High Noon Over Camelot - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Gets Mech'd, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFireForever/pseuds/SkyFireForever
Summary: Arthur Pendragon thought he would die after Mordred shot him out to space. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky.Or: Arthur gets mech’d.
Relationships: Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot (High Noon Over Camelot), Drumbot Brian/Arthur (High Noon Over Camelot), The Mechanisms Ensemble/Arthur (High Noon Over Camelot), The Mechanisms Ensemble/The Mechanisms Ensemble
Kudos: 34





	Knights and Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An expanded version of my Arthur Pendragon Gets Mech’d idea, brought to you by popular demand. 
> 
> Trigger warning for brief mention of suicidal ideation, but it’s very brief.

Space was empty and cold. How fitting, considering that was exactly how Arthur felt. Empty and cold. He could see Fort Galfridian grow smaller and smaller as his life pod flew further and further away. He watched as it was flung into the bright, glowing orb in a burst of light. 

He barely felt the pain in his chest from where he had been shot. Barely felt anything at all. He was just consumed by an all encompassing nothingness. 

And then everything went black. 

If he had been given the option, he would have chosen to never open his eyes again. He would have chosen to remain in the blissful emptiness of unconsciousness. He would have chosen anything over facing the reality of what had happened. 

Of course, he so rarely got what he wanted. 

His eyes opened to a harsh, artificial light nearly blinding him. A hand rose automatically to shield his face from the brightness as he adjusted to his surroundings. 

He felt groggy and disoriented, not understanding where he was or what had happened. He squinted as he slowly took in the setting he was in. 

He was laying on some sort of bed in some sort of white room. The ceiling was white, the walls were white, and if he were to hazard a guess, he’d say that the floor was probably white as well. The blandness of it all was overwhelming. The next thing he became aware of was the fact that he was surrounded by several figures all peering at him. 

As his eyes adjusted, he half expected to see Guinevere or Lancelot grinning at him, teasing him for sleeping in. But as the figures came into focus, he didn’t recognize a single one of them. 

What was going on? Where was he? He should have been waking up at home, in bed with his lovers. Lancelot should have been clinging to him in his sleep while Guinevere snored beside them. This wasn’t right. 

Arthur couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong. 

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” A woman’s voice broke Arthur out of his thoughts. His gaze fell to the figure who had spoken, a blonde woman who appeared to have a pair of metal wings growing from her back. “Your vitals are steady.” She announced, peering at a screen that stood beside Arthur’s head. “I would say that this experiment was likely a success.” 

“Experiment?” Arthur echoed, voice hoarse. His throat was so dry that he couldn’t help but to wonder when the last time he’d had a sip of water was. “What experiment?” 

“The experiment of saving your life, of course!” She said cheerily, glancing down at him. “There’s no telling if your mechanism fully works yet. We’ll have to run more tests, but we at least succeeded in bringing you back from the brink of death.” 

The brink of death? What was this woman going on about? Where was he? Why would he have been dying? 

Then, the memories all came flooding back. 

The hunt for the G.R.A.I.L. The stand-off between him, Guinevere, and Lancelot. Love winning out. The gunshots. His lovers falling dead to the floor. Mordred revealing his true identity. Fort Galfridian flying into the sun. 

His stomach lurched and he bent over the side of the bed, dry heaving. If there had been anything in his stomach, it would have vacated. He coughed and spluttered, sickness overtaking him at the memory of his lovers’ cold, dead eyes. 

He could feel the eyes of the others in the room staring at him as he fought to regain control of his breathing. It took several moments before he managed to do so, laying back in the bed and closing his eyes. 

“Ya shouldn’t have bothered.” He croaked out. “I never asked to be saved.” Who could possibly  _ want  _ to be saved after what he had experienced? His eyes fell shut and he took deep breaths, trying to fight back the memories of all he had seen. 

“No, you didn’t.” The woman agreed. “But one of our crew  _ did  _ ask for you to be saved.”

His eyes opened, brows furrowing. “Who the hell could have wanted to save me?” He wondered aloud. Everyone he had ever known had been on Fort Galfridian and no one could have survived it being driven into the sun. Even if someone had managed to make it out before the station had been destroyed, he’d watched as everyone who cared about him had been killed. 

The woman gestured to a figure standing just outside of Arthur’s view. He turned his head and his gaze landed on a familiar face. 

The Hanged Man stood beside the bed Arthur was laying on, a soft smile on his face. He was different than when Arthur had known him, cleaner and more put together. He was no longer covered in rust and grime. 

“Hello, Arthur.” His voice was gentle and soft, as though he was afraid that if he spoke too loudly, Arthur might run away. “I know this can’t be easy for you. It’ll be an adjustment. But we’re all here for you.” 

Another figure snorted and shook his head. “Last time I checked, we agreed that if we were going to keep him, he’d be  _ your  _ responsibility.” 

The Hanged Man closed his eyes, looking absolutely exhausted. “Not now, Jonny. Please.” 

“I’m just saying.” The man - Jonny? - said. “He’s not  _ our  _ responsibility.” 

The Hanged Man took a breath before opening his eyes, a smile returning to his face. “Well, I’m here for you.” He told Arthur. “And I’m sure that the others will come around.” 

Arthur’s head spun. What was the Hanged Man doing here? How had he survived? Why had he saved him? “Does someone wanna explain to me exactly what the hell is goin’ on?” He demanded, not going to just sit passively as these people spoke about him as though he wasn’t there. 

“What do you remember?” The Hanged Man asked, studying Arthur’s face. 

The sheriff took a slow breath and closed his eyes. “Too much.” He muttered, voice heavy. “We were  _ this  _ close to fixin’ everythin’ and then…” He trailed off, a scowl appearing on his face. 

“And then Mordred.” The Hanged Man nodded in understanding. “Well, once you were put into the life pod, Mordred, uh, well, he flew your station into the sun with everyone in it.” He said quickly, as though if he spoke fast enough, it wouldn’t hurt as much. “You were in cryosleep for a little over a century.” 

“A  _ century?”  _ He echoed. A hundred years. A hundred years had passed since the death of his lovers. Since his world had been destroyed. And to him, it had all happened just moments ago. 

Arthur wasn’t new to loss. He’d lost his father as a boy. Had lost one of his partners, his daughter, and most of his people in the move to Camelot. He wasn’t new to loss. He was used to it. Or, at least, he should have been. 

But loss wasn’t something one just got used to. Loss weighed heavy in his heart and he carried the pain of that loss around with him every single day. He could still remember the moment he’d gotten the news that Gawain had been the only survivor of the caravan. 

He remembered how he had fallen to his knees, Morgause’s name on his lips. She had been the first person he’d thought of. He had thought of how young she had been, how she must have been so scared. He remembered how Guinevere and Lancelot had come to his side, soothing him with comforting words and reassurances. He remembered not believing them. 

Arthur hadn’t been the only one to feel loss that day. Guinevere, Lancelot, and Gawain had all lost their loved ones too, but Arthur had allowed himself the selfishness of grief. 

They had all lost Ygraine, Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot’s other lover and Gawain’s mother by Lancelot. She had been something fierce, always planning and coming up with solutions to problems that no one else had even considered. She’d had green eyes that glinted with mischief and a laugh that filled whatever room she was in. 

They had lost Agravain and Gareth, other sons of Lancelot and Ygraine. And Gaheris, the son of Lancelot and Guinevere. They had been just boys, barely old enough to understand the world they were living in. 

And of course, they had lost Morgause. Arthur’s only biological child and their only daughter. She had been the youngest of them all, so gentle and sweet. She had been innocent. 

And she had been snatched cruelly from them. 

Arthur had lost much and should have been used to it by now. He shouldn’t be grieving those left on Fort Galfridian. 

But he thought of Gawain, who was so fierce and brave. Who was more sensitive than he’d ever care to admit. Who saw Arthur as a father just as much as his biological one. 

He thought of Kay and Tor and the other knights who had fought bravely alongside Arthur and his lovers, who were always willing to share a laugh and a drink. 

He thought of Mordred, the child he’d thought he’d lost so long ago, only for him to come back to him. 

Arthur shook his head, refusing to cry in front of these strangers. They didn’t deserve to see him cry. “Ya shouldn’t have saved me.” He said, sitting up more fully on the bed. “It didn’t do no one any good.” He started removing the IV from his arm. Only as he sat up did he realize how heavy his chest felt, and not emotionally. 

The Hanged Man frowned. “You’re alive.” He said. “That’s some good.” He swallowed. “And the means of saving someone I care about justified the ends of you being unhappy.” He said quietly. 

Arthur didn’t have a clue what that meant and he didn’t care. “I don’t care how ya justify this to yourself.” He rose to his feet. “It didn’t do ya any good and I don’t plan on stickin’ around.” 

Why would he stay in a world without his lovers? Without his family? He had nothing worth living for anymore. He had failed. The best thing he could do now would be to join his loved ones and hope for peace. 

“Ah, well, that might be a problem.” The blonde spoke up. “You can’t actually die now. You’re a Mechanism, which makes you effectively immortal. At least, if I did everything right, which I probably did.” 

He turned to look at her, his heart sinking. “Excuse me?” 

“You are immortal now.” Said a figure with red hair. “Just like the rest of us.” 

Arthur stood in complete shock. Immortal. He would never rest. He would never be able to get the ending his lovers did. “Ya made me  _ immortal?”  _

“Well, it was mostly me.” The blonde said. “But it was Brian’s idea.” 

Arthur could hear his heart pounding in his ears. 

“You didn’t deserve to be lost to space forever.” The Hanged Man stepped forward. “You deserved another chance.” 

“Screw your chances!” Arthur stepped back. “I never asked for another fuckin’ chance!” He yelled, not able to believe that this was happening. “I never asked for a life without them!” 

The Hanged Man’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I thought-”

But Arthur didn’t listen. He stormed out of the room without a second glance back. He couldn’t stand another second with these people. He distantly heard laughter coming from behind him followed by a smug voice. 

“Well, that went well.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me your thoughts on this and things you'd like to see!


End file.
